The Moment of Surrender
by JoJo4
Summary: If Rei had seen the destruction Jaedite would bring upon her, would it have made a difference? (Complete!)
1. The Moment of Surrender

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon doesn't belong to me. I'm not making any money off this. Don't sue me.

Author's Notes: Well, I seem to be fandom hopping. At any rate, I was tired of reading fanfiction tonight, so I decided to write some. I opted for a Sailor Moon fic. I'm fascinated by the idea of love that Sailor Moon represents. The characters all have this idealized kind of love in a highly tragic style. These terrible things are always happening, but they still love each other throughout millennia. Isn't that just incredibly appealing? Ah, l'amour.

Oh, and I love reviews. If I receive any, I may write a little more, although I had originally intended to leave this as a one-shot vignette.

* * *

The Moment of Surrender

By Jenni

Four years before she ever met him, Rei knew how he would die. Meditating by the sacred fire in her temple on a summer evening, a chilling disquiet seized her, and opening her eyes she stared transfixed into the white center of the flames before her. There his handsome face appeared, a vision so irresistible even then that she had drawn dangerously close to the heat and burned her fingers. To this day she remembers the pain that sent her reeling back into reality. But had not erased the imprint of her doom and his, which, etched upon her memory forever, seemed like a faded tapestry unfolded before her. The details had lain in shadow, perhaps, but they were there, and the new feelings they evoked overpowered her. For a long time she had sat in silent self-reflection, and only when morning had come did she rise to her aching feet and feel her legs pricking from disuse. In the warming light of a promising day, the fears of the night vanished, and the face she had seen was just another man among hundreds she had seen before. She decided then that she would fight destiny.

But four years was a long time, and she had been so young then and so naïve. She hadn't learned what it was to be held in a man's strong arms and to feel his breath against her cheek as he cried her name in ecstacy. She hadn't known what a miracle it was to see his eyes alight with love—or to know that she alone gave his life purpose. She hadn't known that his smile would be crooked or that he would run his fingers through his hair when he was nervous or that his temper would flare whenever she teased him, but he would remain preternaturally cool when she dealt him a real insult. . . . She liked that about him.

Now, as she stands in the solitary palace gardens on a summer night not unlike that one, she relives that haunting apocalyptic premonition. Far removed from the revels of the ballroom and the laughter of her friends, she is able to regain her composure and consider the events of the past month with wonder and terror. Her heart pounds as she remembers lying in Jaedite's arms the evening before. How is it possible that after all she knows that she still cannot stop herself from _loving _him?

Is she betraying her duty by wanting to return to the palace and fall once again into his embrace?

Is it right to savor these days while they last, or should she fight it?

Should she warn the others of the disaster they all court?

The sound of footsteps behind her, followed by his hovering silhouette upon the marble fountain cut into the torch-light emanating from the palace, cause her to straighten. Knowing who it is, Rei feels the approaching danger, but she does not turn immediately. She cannot bring herself to face him yet.

"Milady?" he asks, half whispers. It is indeed Jaedite, and his voice is full of tremulous, undeclared love that makes her shiver.

"General," she greets him, keeping her voice even.

"Still so formal?" he laughs, coming closer.

Rei shrugs him off, pushes him away. "Please, I wish to be alone."

A long silence follows before he works up the courage to ask, "Did last night mean nothing to you?"

She wraps her arms about herself, takes a step toward the fountain and does not answer.

Had she felt this hopeless when she first saw him—not in the flames, but _him_—kneeling to her Queen? When his cerulean eyes had looked upon her in shock because she had struck him? The kiss in the hall, perhaps, and the passion that had followed.

But all these were physical things. Her destiny would not be made through lust. What was it that made her love inevitable? Why did it burn so strongly within her, though she knew where it would lead? Why couldn't destiny be changed?

"I thought . . . " says the man behind her, "I thought it did."

Still she does not turn.

"Rei?"

"I saw you in the flames," she tells him, finally. "You know what kinds of things I see there. Portents of evil and darkness."

And he understands what she is really saying because he knows her as a man seldom knows a woman. But he does not know what she saw.

"When?"

"Many years ago. . . . I asked the fire to show me the man I would love."

Though she has not turned to face him, she feels his pleasure at her words, and it disturbs her that her vision might make anyone feel happy.

"Then why are you afraid? Didn't the flames tell you I would love you in return?"

"Yes," she answered. "And they told me other things as well. Horrible things await us in the future. Betrayal…"

Nothing is between them but silence for a long time. His breathing is deep and controlled, but once she hears him shudder.

"And I . . . _I_ do this."

She turns at last, to see those eyes staring into hers. They hold the blue of the sea, and tonight they hold much more, for he knows what she has seen. Now they hold the weight of atrocities not yet committed, the shame and the horror that he will not feel when they are truly accomplished, and she is moved to pity. In this moment she forgives what has not yet come to pass. In this moment she surrenders to fate.

"Hold me," she tells him. He is confused, but complies and comes to her. She feels the warmth of his embrace. The uncertainty of her sudden change of heart is evident in the tentative way he touches her. She feels his nervousness and fear. She feels his goodness.

In the future, she knows, she will regret this decision. The flames had told her of a great sorrow.

They hadn't told her she wouldn't care.

----


	2. The Nature of Changing

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Sailor Moon and am not making money off of it.

Author's Notes: This time, it's from Jaedite's POV.  This whole work is a great exercise in control over verb tenses.  No one cares, but pay close attention to the switches between past perfect and present and imperfect…  Ok, I'm a dork.  

I've decided to make this a 3 part story of vignettes.  Depending on how long my burst of creativity lasts, I may choose to do something about Minako and Kunzite.  

Also, thanks to those of you who reviewed.  I really appreciate it.  I don't like ransoming work for reviews, but I understand why authors do it.  It's nice to know that someone enjoys your work.  But, on to the story!

+ + + + + + + 

It is because she did not cry that he is afraid.

At every other parting she had wept.  Never begged him to stay, for she had too much dignity, but there had been tears.  She had shown her weakness willingly.  

This time, not a word.  Not a shudder in her lips.  Her embrace was cold.  

They had fought before his departure, but she had not been angry when he had left.  In fact, she had not been angry when they had fought.  He had done the screaming.  

"Why can't we try to change it?!"

"It will happen no matter what.  I would prefer for it to happen in the way that I expect.  I will die prepared."  

"But perhaps we could prolong it.  We could have another year, Rei.  Another week, another day!"  

But she had refused.  Rei and her damned visions.  He hates them, and he hates her.  He hates the sword she gave him, though she presented it as a token of her love.  But he knows she offered it to him because she saw it in her dreams.  He believes she asked the swordsmith to cut the edge so fine that it might cut a falling hair.  So that when it slices through her flesh, it will enter easily, and she will not feel it.  

There is nothing but death in her embraces.  In the months before, he could hear her gentle breathing and still think of the end.  

Where will it happen?  She did not tell him.  When?  She never tells him the details.  

But it will be soon.  That was evident from their farewell, and from before when he felt her slipping away.  When he awoke to an empty bed.  When her hand would pull away.  

When she gave him this sword…

He holds it now, staring at the cold steel with an impassiveness that belies his true state of mind.  The others think he is praying—preparing for the impending battle.  He is, but not the battle close at hand.  He thinks of one many months from now, or perhaps years.  He hopes it is years.  

He does not pray for honor in battle, but that her death will be quick when it comes.  He prays that he will show mercy, that this blade will do its work well.  

Love tells him to fight his future.  Love tells him that he can.  

But Rei…Rei does not believe it.  Rei does not want to try.

Sometimes he feels the same way, just as he does now while sitting alone on his bunk, holding her sword, remembering the cold determination in her face and how she did not return his kiss.  Enemy ships lurk nearby while he feels helpless, bereft of hope and love.  Bereft of purpose, for what is the good of anything if she is right?  

At this moment he believes he can be conquered.  In moments like these he believes he can become her foe.

Perhaps prophecy fulfills itself.  Perhaps the despair she has brought upon him will become his true undoing.  What if he forgets everything she has told him?  Tries to act as he would without knowing the future?  Will it all be different then?  

"Jaedite!" barks his general, taking him from his thoughts.  "The battle has begun."

He sheaths the sword, but he does not hurry from his quarters.  What he does is much more rash: He pauses before reaching to unclip the weapon from his belt, decides that it is not for this battle.  

He hopes to return it to her.  He hopes the blade will be unscratched, unused.  Or even better, that it will be lost.  Destroyed in battle.  Then he will tell her that her vision was wrong.  He will kiss her and she will kiss him back.  He will feel the smile on her lips…

Yet, a warrior must have a weapon…  He is unsure.  

"_Jaedite!_"  

He can debate no longer, but rushes from the cabin into the corridor.  He sees not his friend, who called.  

Fire is sweeping through the ship; his enemies are upon him.  They are dark figures, cloaked in shadow, yet they and stand no chance against him.  He unleashes his power, crying out against the wall of blackness, and it scatters backward into the flames.  Laughing, he goes to find his brothers.  

But there are so many; so many and so little space to maneuver.  He cannot see the others.  Still he fights.  He takes a weapon lying on the floor, raises it to the ready.  Two rush him from nowhere.  He swings; they fall.  Yet two more replace them, and two more and four and seven…  The blade he holds is shattered.  His feet propel him backward, but never the other way.  

Eventually, his back slams against something solid.  It is Zoicite's back.  He sees Kunzite to his right, Nephrite to his left and a wall of his enemies coming closer.  They are surrounded.

He smiles, still uncomprehending his danger, still fired by battle lust.  He reaches for the weapon that hangs always at his side.  

But the sword is not there…

It lies upon his bed, of no use to anyone.  

And his enemies draw ever closer.  


	3. Defying Fate

Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off this and the characters do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Forgive me for the time it has taken to complete this. My writer's block reappeared unexpectedly at the beginning of September and then real life intruded. I hope some of you remember what happened before.

She is aware of the carnage surrounding her, and yet she feels nothing. It is not shock that causes her impassiveness. It is not a war weariness that has turned even the most gruesome acts into tedium. It is the feeling of inevitability. This had been fated.

She fights, of course. The inevitableness of death does not mean she should throw down her sword, abandon her duty, forsake her honor. But she is no longer fighting for the Moon Kingdom. Not really, for the Moon Kingdom is destroyed. She can see the fire all around her devouring the great halls and towers of the city. Stones collapse as their supports turn to ash. Flames lick at her heels as she runs. But it does not touch her, for she is still Mars.

Even now amidst all this destruction, she does not hate the fire. Never has it brought her any luck or happiness, and yet it has given her one thing, one bitter hope for which she now fights, and it is more sacred to her even than her beloved princess: To be in his arms again.

The other senshi are not with her. She is not sure if they still fight or if they are gone forever, but she will never see them again. She knows they will die with honor.

She pauses to strike a foe with her sword, then runs onward. But soon she can run no more. There are too many and the space between her and them is closing. They are in the city square, she thinks. Here she and Jaedite had once walked. He had splashed her with water from the fountain.

But the fountain was in ruins. And Jaedite was not there.

He was not there!

She laughs at her enemies, and holds her sword aloft. A cry sounds from her mouth and flames shoot ahead, clearing her path. But it is not enough. There are hundreds waiting to take their places, for she has run to their battle lines.

Only then does the fear creep into her heart that she will be dead before he comes. Has her vision betrayed her? And if it has, was all of this then preventable?

No, her heart answers. I shall not die here.

And she fights. Her battle is hopeless; it is the stuff of legend. If anyone were left to sing of honor and of glory, no song would be greater than Rei's. Her sword is like a thresh in the field, clearing everything and everyone from her path. She is defiant in her struggle.

It is the news of her valiant stand that brings him at last. He has been trying to find her as well, but she was not with the others. He does not truly understand why it is important to find this girl, for what memories are left to him are vague at best, and yet it is somehow vital that he see her.

When he finds her, he does not see her at first. There is a flash of red in a crowd of pressing demons. There is a streak of fire. A whisp of a white uniform, sullied with blood and dirt.

He hates her without knowing why. His hand clutches the grip of his sword. The sword. He grips it tighter, remembering that something about it is important.

Rei notices the flash of him withdrawing it, wonders at the sudden dispersal of the shadow demons. And then.

The clash of steel on steel, blade on blade, is their first exchange in over a year. Rei at last allows herself to feel her exhaustion, knowing the end is so near. She is relieved, in fact. The expression of hatred on his face does not bother her. She only wants it to be over. No more grief or pain or thwarted love. Her arms rise to prepare for a blow, but intentionally she leaves her side open for attack, hoping he will take advantage of this. And he does, of course.

But something happens that she does not expect. He is too slow, and her warrior instincts are too fast. When the impact occurs, it is not her body upon the blade.

Jaedite chokes as her sword slices through his throat, and then he knows no more.

Rei holds his body as he collapses, falls with his weight. She turns him over and cradles him in her arms, but he is gone. It is his blood on her hands, not hers.

This is not what she had seen in the fire. He had not regained his memory. He had not held her as she faded. Where were their gentle words of farewell? Rei wonders if all these images had not been wishful thinking instead of fate.

She is crying now. Sobbing into his golden hair as she rocks him back and forth.

What have I done?

Softly she kisses his head, but she does not close his eyes. Maybe he will wake up. She cannot believe he won't. Her vision cannot have been false. Everything else had come true.everything.

"The fire was wrong, Jaedite," she whispers through tears. "I defied our fate."

But the words are empty now, and it is not a joy to hear them. Rei is suddenly aware that the demons who had scattered at Jaedite's arrival were once again upon her. But no longer does she have any will to fight.

Instead there comes to mind an image of a sword in the fire seen so many years ago.

She does not even bother to take it from his hand before she plunges it into her heart.

One last tear slips down her cheek as she dies. So fate wins after all.


End file.
